


(your lips are) honeysea

by candybank



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M just to be safe?, M/M, belated jun bday fic!!!!, canon??compliant?? girl idk, idolverse, junhao got me writing idol verse fics man........crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/candybank
Summary: “did i give you your b-day present yet?”





	(your lips are) honeysea

**Author's Note:**

> play honeysea by ivoris

it’s three in the morning with the lights turned low and everything fast asleep. there is the quiet humming of airconditioning machines, the steady rise and fall of heavy chests, the silent buzz of snoring muffled behind closed doors. everyone tired, everyone spent.

they got him a cake and sang him a song at twelve, lights bright and cameras flashing, but junhui has long since accepted that a birthday is a non-event. sometimes a working holiday, sometimes an excuse to finish someone’s half-eaten sandwich. mostly another way to say thank you to a screen, thank you for supporting me, please take care of me in the future. there are gifts and there are greetings—more than he can count, more than he ever could have ever hoped for—but a birthday is just another day.

and so he shuffles to the bathroom in the hallway with his night-time routine in hand, because he’d forgotten to wash his face in all the excitement. he’s standing in front of the mirror, door open behind him and face lathered, when minghao walks up to the doorway.

“motherf—” junhui nearly jumps, “AH—” he hisses when the soap gets in his eye. quickly, he leans down to wash it off, splashing water in his face so frantically that it gets all over his shirt.

minghao laughs. he steps forward. junhui doesn’t hear him close the door.

“you’re all wet,” he says, reaching for the towel on the rack.

junhui’s eye is a little too red, and he tries to blink the sting out of his cornea as minghao dabs his shirt dry. not too long after, minghao sighs. he puts down the towel on the counter behind junhui and he reaches for the hem of junhui’s shirt. 

“you need to change your shirt,” minghao says, actions too decisive for junhui to question. he pulls the shirt off of the birthday boy’s body, always loving the way his hair gets rustled up from the collar.

and he looks good in the low yellow lights, up against the marble, up against the glass. and he didn’t plan this—he has an expensive t-shirt in a paper bag with a bow and junhui’s name on it under his bed—but he says, “did i give you your b-day present yet?”

“no,” junhui answers, caught off guard, “what is it?”

minghao leans in and answers him with a kiss. soft and warm, returned seconds after junhui recovers from the shock. minghao pulls away to smile before closing his eyes, wrapping arms around junhui’s neck and kissing him again. deeper this time, more breathless this time. with his tongue tracing lines across junhui’s lips, with teeth tugging as he moves to his neck. 

minghao peppers junhui’s neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses—like stars shooting across the sky, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. and junhui can’t do anything but bury his fingers in minghao’s soft, soft hair. his head lolled to the side, skin tingly.

“i can’t— i can’t tonight, hao. i’m—tired—” the words fight their way out of a body screaming the opposite thing. he can feel the blood in his brain rushing south, and it makes him laugh.

“it’s okay,” minghao says in between kisses, teeth traveling across junhui’s shoulder, “we don’t have to do anything.” he pulls away to smile at him, not too long after pulled back in by another kiss. it seems to last forever until he pulls away, only a lifetime of dancing and a sliver of survival instinct saving him from burning lungs.

“you sure…?” minghao asks, the grin on his face almost teasing as he fits his fingers behind the waistband of junhui’s sweatpants, ready to pull at a moment’s notice.

junhui has to laugh, taking a deep inhale to pace himself as he takes minghao’s hand away from him. “yeah,” he says, punctuating his answer with a kiss, “thanks for the birthday gift. i really liked it.”

minghao smiles, eyes hooded and loving, and junhui tries to seize the moment.

“could you… take off your shirt too? so i can look at you.”

minghao’s reply is a squeaky little laugh—as much a bark of laughter as he can give. something about it is mocking, and junhui tries to ignore how heated it gets him.

“no,” he pulls himself away from junhui’s body, tugs the long sleeves of his white shirt over his fingers, “it’s cold.” he leaves with a smile as intoxicating as a kiss goodbye, shutting the door behind him.

and suddenly, everything is quiet again.


End file.
